Call of Deathmatch
by UglyTurnip
Summary: 3PEN is a newly formed clan that has entered the fray of online multiplayer. As they play Black Ops 2, they are unintentionally drawn into a conflict between two hacking agencies that seek to dominate the servers; one good, one evil. Also contains plain slice of life chapters and you can submit OCs. T for some language. Chapter 1: 3PEN's first encounter with a Black Star member.


The countless game lobbies on Call of Duty: Black Ops 2 were once again stuffed full of players. Even though the game's glory days have come and gone, the game still had a very active community. Granted, the community is mainly made up of 10-year-old brats or teenage trolls trying to look cool, but a community is a community.

In one of the many Search and Destroy lobbies, three particular players were awaiting a match. They were a part of the newly-formed 3PEN clan, although the name itself had probably been taken before. 3PEN wasn't trying to become nationally famous like FaZe or OpTic, but was simply three friends united under a banner of sorts.

The pre-game lobby itself was almost filled to the brim, but the match had yet to start. Nobody really knew why, and of course some squeaker kid was advertising his no-name clan to others.

And unfortunately for us, that squeaker is one of our protagonists.

3PEN Potluck and 3PEN King were both trying to shush their loud and obnoxious counterpart, 3PEN Twig, to no avail. King, obviously the leader of the group, let out an audible sigh on his mic. He wish he could have just formed a 2-man clan with his buddy Potluck, but his little brother desperately wanted to join in the fun. Potluck wasn't very keen on it, either, but he had little choice.

Potluck's real name was Trent, and he was known for his competitive spirit, brutal honesty, and overall skill at the game, though not the leader of the clan. Trent represented the team in various competitive battles, and he knew how to quickscope with a fury. However, dealing with his annoying brother has left him with a huge distaste for "kids", really anyone under the age of 17. He also was known for his overall trash-talk and arrogance, which could be good or bad, depending on who he was facing.

"Keep trying, Twig, I'm sure you'll convince them eventually," King sarcastically uttered. King, or Aaron as he was know in real life, was the leader and deadpan snarker of the group. While not as skilled in the game as his best friend, Trent, Aaron knew when to pick his fights and when to back down. He was made leader for his tactical intelligence and for the fact he was better than Trent about controlling his emotions.

"Really?!" Twig responded, oblivious to the fact that King had been sarcastic. King facepalmed himself.

"SHUT UP!" A deep voice echoed through the lobby, which soon fell silent. Even Twig had fallen silent.

Twig, AKA Evan, was your typical 11-year-old shooter fanboy; loud and obnoxious. Although, to his credit, he was more optimistic and nice than most squeakers, if somewhat naive. He was probably the only member of 3PEN that was not always expecting some source of verbal conflict in lobbies.

Finally, the server had selected a map for these Search and Destroy players, and it was Nuketown 2025. Potluck let out a loud sigh.

"Why do people love this map?" He asked to nobody in particular.

"It's simple, small, and chaotic, perfect for the COD community!" King responded, faking enthusiasm.

"That's a little hypocritical, don't you think? I mean, you ARE playing COD, too," Someone else in the lobby asked.

"Uh. . . Touché," King fell silent. "But a little hypocrisy won't stop me from pointing out this community's flaws!" He added.

The countdown started, and Twig was counting down with it, much to the annoyance of the other players in the lobby.

After a tedious loading screen, the three members of 3PEN picked their signature classes. Trent, being the quickscoper he is, had his signature class be a golden DSR 50 with a laser sight attachment, no sidearm, a knife with bacon camo, a claymore for the few times he did regular sniping, 2 shock charges, Perk 2 Greed, and Ghost, Scavenger, Cold-Blooded, and Awareness.

Aaron was more of an assault rifle man, armed with a Comic-camoed AN-94, also equipped with a laser sight, but also a fast mag. His sidearm was the trustworthy golden B23R, which did not have any attachments. He ran the standard amount of three perks: Blind Eye, Toughness, and Engineer. As for lethal and non-lethal grenades, he equipped a single block of C4, and two concussion grenades.

And, of course, what would a n00by squeaker like Evan be without a Remington 870, decked out in the brand new Afterlife camo? Also on the shotgun was the long barrel and quickdraw attachments. The secondary weapon was a SMAW rocket launcher, supposedly so that Evan could bring down aerial scorestreaks, but in reality most shots were fired at ground enemies. His perks were Flak Jacket, so powerful that he could survive three War Machine shots, Scavenger, and Extreme Conditioning. Despite having a smart, if n00bish, strategy, Evan still often came out of the majority of matches with a negative Kill/Death record.

The assembled team spawned in as the Mercs, behind the orange house on the north tip of the small map. Aaron soon pressed a button on his controller, bringing up the current results and performance of both teams. The other three team members went by the gamertags EzioxzxAuditore, KrazyWalrus72, and Delicious Llama.

"Oh, great, I'm on the same team as 3PENIS," KrazyWalrus growled. He sounded even younger than Evan, probably eight or nine.

"Shut up, kid," Llama calmly ordered. "You have no right to talk," He sounded about Trent's age, maybe slightly older.

"Thanks for the save," Evan praised. Llama, however, shot him down as well.

"You ARE annoying, Twig."

"I'm sorry," Aaron, more willing to apologize than Trent, tried to be nice. "This is Potluck's brother, and we couldn't really say no."

"Say no more," Llama responded just ask the spawning countdown clicked "0". "I have a dumbass brother, too."

Aaron's eyes widened slightly. "What?! A nice and understanding person playing Call of Duty?!" He faked shock. "We gotta get you out of here!" Llama chuckled.

This entire time, Ezio and Trent remained silent. Evan and Aaron both knew that Trent was getting focused, and Ezio either had no comment or no mic.

"Time to earn your bread, grunts," The Merc announcer spoke as the team began to move out. Trent, sniper in hand, moved through the house. Evan was behind him, but turned and headed up the stairs, while Trent ran out the front and scoped an unlucky rusher.

Meanwhile, Aaron ran out through the garage and tossed a C4 at the car on the very western edge of the map. No hitmarker. Aaron was about to charge over to where he just blew up the car when a Semtex grenade came flying over the bus and, unluckily for Aaron, got a direct stick to his chest.

"Fu-" was all Aaron was able to utter before he exploded. Evan and Trent both laughed at Aaron's sudden death. That was, until Evan suddenly got cut off by a PDW-57 user that caught the camping shotgun er off-guard.

"Thank God," the still-alive Delicious Llama sighed with relief.

"He's a handful."

"I know the pain, my friend," Llama smiled. Llama fired his MK48 and wiped out two enemies, one of them being the PDW user that killed Evan.

Meanwhile, Evan and Aaron sat in spectator mode, both watching as Trent charged into the blue house. KrazyWalrus was right behind him. However, just before Walrus made it inside, a quickscoper domed the unlucky squeaker.

"DAMMIT!" He shouted, breaking the eardrums of all the other dead players. Ezio, also dead, still had not made any comments. Only Trent and Llama remained for their team, and the enemies had three remaining members.

And unfortunately, Llama was soon taken out by a player holding a Remington 870, one that looked suspiciously like Evan's own gun.

"Hey! He stole my gun!" Evan cried out. Nobody responded as everyone besides Aaron and Trent had him muted now.

"Good job taking out those two guys," Trent complimented Llama.

"Thank you, I love using LMGs and just spraying dow-" The sound of a shotgun blast echoed throughout the map as Llama was blasted to bits inside the moving truck. "Bomb dropped," The Merc announcer informed.

"Crap," Trent muttered to himself. "I liked the guy," He waited for the shot gunner to enter the house, where he quietly awaited with his combat knife in hand.

"This is for Llama, you little bitch!" Trent shouted over-dramatically as he dug the blade into the back of the unsuspecting enemy player. Quickly, Trent scooped up Evan's shotgun and charged out to search and destroy the last two enemies.

Luckily, he caught one guarding Bomb Site B and managed to get a good quickscope in, but the other one remained hidden. . .

He finally found the remaining player standing AFK in the back.

"Jackpot," Trent smiled.

His smiled dropped when the supposedly AFK player suddenly turned in his direction and fired a ballistic knife directly into Trent's chest.

Round Lost- Mercs eliminated.

Seals 1- Mercs 0

"Damn!" Trent yelled. "I hate that trick! I should have known better."

"Now, now, big bro," Evan attempted to comfort. "It's not a matter of whether you win or lose, but-"

"You're not helping," Aaron cut him off.

"I can't believe he fell for it!" The lone survivor of the round laughed. "That's an old trick in the book!"

"And a dirty one," Llama growled as the teams respawned in their respective backyards.

"We'll get them next time," Aaron assured, switching to his B23R.

"Yeah! Go team!"

"SHUT UP!" Both Aaron and Trent screamed in unison to Evan. Trent was rushing them this time, gambling that he would be able to make accurate shots. Aaron, wary of the Semtex of doom now, simply camped in the backyard, in the gardens. Evan did exactly what he did last round. Trent was lucky as he saw two enemies crouch-walking in unison. They started to spray at him, but one shot got a collateral kill.

"Boom shaka laka!" Trent cheered.

"Nice," Llama and Aaron both complimented when they saw the kill feed.

"No problem."

Trent turned the corner from the front of the moving truck and instinctively swung his knife. It was something he tended to do when moving through tight corners.

Unfortunately for the enemy team, there was someone standing right at the turn of the corner. And now Trent's blade was in his shoulder.

"FUUUUUUUUUU-" Was heard on the revenge voice. Trent bursted out laughing.

And then, in that utter lack of focus, a crossbow bolt hit him right in the genitals.

"My nuts!" Trent screamed right before he exploded. Now literally everyone on Trent's team was laughing.

"Alright," Aaron spoke once the laughter died down. "There's only three left, and five of us. We got this in the bag!" Aaron rallied his team, and they traveled out as a group of five. They successfully mowed down the crossbow guy by using Evan as bait, and the guy with the PDW was also gunned down.

Aaron quickly tossed a C4 into the backyard and detonated it. Sure enough, the guy was faking AFK again, and he was killed by the sudden C4.

Round Won- Seals Eliminated

Seals- 1, Mercs- 1

"Well well well. . . I was wondering if you'd check this time," The camper taunted, still confident that his team would win. "Guess I better switch up."

True to his word, the camper did switch up his strategy. It was enough to put both teams in a deadlock, with both earning two more round victories.

The score was now tied at 3-3. The next round would decide it all.

The Mercs spawned back behind the orange house after three rounds behind the blue house. Trent was better coming from this side, so he knew his team had an upper hand.

"I can't wait to deflate that guy's ego," Llama grumbled.

"Trust me," Aaron replied to their new friend. "We will."

Trent immediately ran out to rush. Unfortunately, the enemy team had planned just for him to do that. Trent was eliminated within fifteen seconds from the start of the round.

"There goes our best player," Walrus groaned. He was at the bottom of the team with no kills and five deaths. Even Evan had managed to score one kill with his shotgun. Ezio had three kills, a bomb plant, and four deaths. Aaron had four kills and four deaths, Llama had six kills and five deaths, and Trent had nine kills and only four deaths.

Aaron made it to the car on the west side of the map and took cover beside it. He tossed a concussion grenade at the window of the blue house, wondering if he would get a hitmarker. Once he indeed saw the small "x" on his crosshairs, Aaron threw his block of C4 into the window. The two players inside had little time to react.

Aaron smiled as he saw the killfeed update with the two fresh kills he got. He was so busy taking pride, however, that he did not notice the ballistic knife user that had faked being AFK firing a knife in his direction.

Nobody was expecting Ezio to dive in the way and take the knife for him. Though, whether it was him being in the wrong place at the wrong time or actual genuine selflessness was unknown.

Having to reload, the ballistic knife user backed out of sight, but Aaron noticed him before he did, and retreated to hold the orange house. Evan was still camping in the bedroom upstairs, while Llama was on the move with his suppressed MSMC. Unfortunately, right after Llama managed to gun down an enemy player, both he and Walrus died as the ballistic knife user shot Walrus and stabbed Llama. It was now down to the last two members of 3PEN, though Aaron was almost certain that the weight was more on HIS shoulders since Evan sucked at Call of Duty.

"You and me, Evan. Stay close," Aaron ordered as the two of them crouch-walked out of the room. Aaron could give credit, while Evan was not a skilled player, he was trusting and loyal to Aaron's plans.

The enemy only had the ballistic knife user, all they had to do was find him and kill him to win the round.

Suddenly, both Aaron and Evan were hit with a shocking amount of lag that left their shots massively delayed as the single remaining enemy charged at them and proudly killed them both.

"What?!" All three 3PEN members, plus Llama, shouted. For once, Evan's death was not his fault.

The enemy player that had killed them did not even try to hide it. "I love this lag switch," he laughed triumphantly.

Evan immediately began to rage. "You dirty cheater!" He screamed. "Get off Xbox and go lick some butts!" And this time, neither Trent not Aaron tried to stop him. Despite his childish and ineffective insults, Evan had every right to complain in this situation.

"You must be more pathetic than I thought," Aaron added. "And I thought you were already pathetic."

As they were sent back into the lobby, the ballistic knife user, AKA MagicFerrariDragon, was already sending them Denial of Service codes to temporarily boot them offline. Llama watched as his three. . . Well, two new friends and the squeaker all vanished from the lobby.

"Ta-Ta," the hacker playfully announced. "Black Star always wins."

He left the game lobby before anyone could call him out.

Llama's eyes widened. "Black Star?" He wondered to himself after muting his mic. "In Black Ops II. . . Already? I got to find the 3PEN guys when they return online. . .

Without another word, Llama left the lobby and waited for the DoS code to lose its effect.

**And, there we go, first chapter finished. I'm back for a second Call of Duty story, this time focused on Multiplayer. I'd like to give credit to Lonewolf685 for the idea, as he created a story called "The Multiplayer Chronicles" a year back, and the successful fic spawned a few spin-offs done by others. This is one such spin-off. And just like Wolf did, I'm allowing you readers to submit OC players for the story.**

**Before I give the form out, though, note that all submitted OCs will be minor one-time characters. All major and secondary characters will be created by me. With that out of the way, here's the form.**

**Gamertag:**

**Real Name (optional):**

**Gender:**

**Class Builds: (At least one minimum, and three maximum)**

**Personality:**

**Backstory:**

**Preferred Team: (With or against 3PEN)**

**Reaction to Trent:**

**Reaction to Aaron:**

**Reaction to Evan:**

**Anything Else I forgot:**

**I'm not sure how frequently I will update this, so you may not see the next chapter for awhile. But this story is my main priority right now, so most of my work will go to this one.**

**Until the next update, see ya!**


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